The Bucktown Babies (Father Gunter, Demon Hunter Book 1)

by Janine R Pestel

  He held his gaze on her for a moment before he answered. “Nothing, really. I was just curious,” he said, with a smile. He turned and walked out the door.

  Sylvia watched as he walked down the hall to the elevator. Once he boarded the elevator, she placed the call to the personnel office to prepare the records for him and returned to her normal daily activities. “Don't know what the hell religion would have to do with it,” she mumbled to herself.

  While on the elevator, Johann noticed a very slight death odor. But, under the vile fragrance was another, more subtle and sinister aroma. He vaguely detected the scent of sulphur. Johann knew the two doctors were in the elevator together, but he was not sure if this meant one of them was the demon, or if the demon was in here by itself at some point recently. He knew it had to be recent, that the demon was here. Enough time had elapsed from before, when he was in the car with the demon, that the air would have cleared from that incident by now. He examined the elevator car, and searched for any clues he may be able to find, but he found none.

  The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and he exited the car. He made his way back to the ER, observing everything he could on the way. Once in the emergency room, he decided to stay a while and watch the goings on. He paid close attention to everyone who came in and went out, and he tried to find out if any infants were being attended to.

  He walked over to the nurses' station and gained the attention of the head nurse.

  “Excuse me,” Johann said, “But have any more infants come in tonight? Specifically, any others with Sudden Infant Death Syndrome?”

  Nurse Hensley checked the nights received patients on her computer and turned back to Johann

  “No, sir, none yet.”

  “None yet,” asked Johann, “You almost sound like you're expecting some.”

  “Unfortunately, there've been so many lately, that if a night goes by without at least one, we consider it a blessing,” the nurse answered.

  “I was merely curious,” Johann said, “The mothers of all these infants. How many of them would you say this was their first child?”

  “Pretty much all of them,” the nurse answered, after she thought. Johann gazed at her for a moment.

  “Thank you for your help,” he said, “I appreciate it.”

  He went back to watching everything he could that was going on in the emergency room. Most of the cases coming in were adults. There were a few children, but no infants. The cases ranged from illness to farming accidents. At one point, the doctors and nurses in the ER went on full alert. Johann thought it was another infant arriving, but it was the victims of a vicious car accident. After he watched everything in the emergency room for an hour or two, he decided it was time to leave the hospital.

  Johann stepped through the door to the outside. The crispness in the air felt good on his skin and the late afternoon light bathed the town in an almost golden orange color. Time passed so quickly today. He spent most of the day in the hospital - nearly seven hours - and it was now quarter past six. He felt a little pang of disappointment, however, since he was not as close as he thought he would be, by this time, to knowing the identity of the demon. His one consolation, however, was that now he was positive, beyond the shadow of any doubt, he was, in fact, dealing with a demon, and he decided a little talk with Father Tuttle might be in order.

  At the same moment Johann was making his way to his car, upstairs in the administrator's office, Sylvia Olson's phone rang. She stopped what she was doing and picked up the receiver.

  “Bucktown Regional. Administrator Olson speaking,” she said, authoritatively, as she cradled the receiver with her shoulder and cheek so she could continue working on her computer.

  “Miss Olson, this is Director Johnson with the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia,” the voice on the telephone said, with a distinct southern accent.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, “We've all met inspector Berman.” Suddenly, there was an expression on her face which reflected both confusion, and concern “I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand what you just said. Would you mind repeating that, please,” she said, Mister Johnson repeated what he had said to her.

  “Bill Berman. The inspector you sent,” she said, “He's been here all day investigating.” She listened while the other person spoke. Her facial expression now changed to concern and anger. “I see,” she almost sounded like she was growling, “Yes, of course, we would welcome an inspector from your organization.”

  She hung up the phone and gazed out the window as Johann's car exited the parking lot.

  -5-

  Johann exited the hospital parking lot and turned onto the main road. Relieved to be finished at the hospital for the day, he was looking forward to relaxing in his hotel room for the night, catching up on the news and, perhaps, relaxing and watching a movie. The sun was now beginning to set, so he turned on his headlights.

  The drive was very pleasant, at the moment. The sky was bright orange where the sun had recently set, and it faded into yellow, then blue and finally dark purple. Not a single cloud was to be found, but the brightest of the stars were only now beginning to peek through the twilight. The air was still and crisp. The evening seemed to be almost perfect. A person could forget their troubles on such an evening. But, alas, this was not to be.

  Johann became aware of a car which appeared to be approaching at a high rate of speed. He tightened his grip on the wheel as the car drew ever closer. A glance in his rear-view mirror revealed another vehicle behind him. He returned his gaze out the front windshield to find the oncoming car was coming into his lane.

  The black automobile was very familiar to him. He realized he was about to have another encounter with the Dodge Challenger that had been hunting him down since his arrival in town last night.

  “Come on, you son of a bitch,” he said, as he gripped the wheel so tight, his knuckles almost turned white. “I'm gonna shove my 'Stang down your throat, you fucker.”

  The ominous black machine drew closer, and closer. Unwavering in its track, the black Dodge Challenger headed straight for its target. Johann could tell his adversary had increased his speed as he drew closer.

  The roar of the Challenger's motor mixed with the pounding of Johann's heart, and he felt as though the muscle will inevitably burst in his chest. The car was so close now; he can almost count the openings in the honeycomb of the grill. Johann deliberately jerked his wheel to the right as the black road missile screamed past. Johann's car lost traction and began to fishtail wildly. He struggled to retain control of the powerful machine, as it finally came to a stop on the shoulder of the road, just before it would have plunged into a ditch.

  As Johann sat, stunned, in the relative quiet of his car, his thoughts turned to the car that had been following behind him. He realized the sound of the crying tires and the loud explosion of metal and breaking glass he expected did not occur, or if it did, he missed it.

  “That idiot must have creamed that poor bastard that was behind me,” he thought to himself. Reluctantly, he began to turn around to view what he could only imagine would be monumental carnage.

  As he turned to examine the scene, Johann became aware of blue and red strobe lights that were lighting the interior of his car. He sat for a moment, confused and trying to compose himself. He made a sudden twitch, as most people do when startled, when he detected someone at his window. Johann turned and realized a police officer was standing outside his vehicle. He glanced up at the young officer of the law.

  “Sir, are you alright,” The officer asked as he maintained eye contact with Johann.

  “Yes, thank you,” the former priest answered, “I'm fine, fortunately.”

  “Can I have your license and registration, please,” the officer said. He was a young man. Most likely fresh off from being a rookie. Tall, slender and clean-shaven. The “All American” type.

  “My license and registration? What about that asshole,” Johann said, as he pointed down the road.
/>   “I'm Sorry sir. I don't know who you're talking about.”

  “That jerk in the Dodge Challenger that just ran me off the road. Why don't you go after him? He tried to kill me, and I have no idea how he missed you.”

  “Sir,” the officer said, sternly, “I don't know what you are talking about. I didn't see any other car. Now can I have your license and registration, please,” he said, as he emphasized the word please.

  Johann opened his wallet and handed the officer his license and vehicle registration.

  “I don't know how you could have missed it. He had to go by you back there unless you came from in front of me.”

  The officer studied Johann's credentials and handed them back to him.

  “Mister Gunter,” he said, while he placed his hands on the part of the door where the window rolls up from, “I was right behind you. All I observed was you losing control of your vehicle for no apparent reason and almost ending up in this ditch. Are you prone to, and did you have a seizure?”

  Johann can hardly believe what he was hearing right now. How could this young officer with apparently good eyesight have not seen this car? He slowly turned his head and gazed at the police officer.

  “No,” he said, “I'm not and I didn't.”

  “Please get out of your vehicle, sir,” the officer said, somewhat politely.

  Johann decided it would probably be better at this point to do as the officer said and got out of his car,

  “Have you had anything to drink this evening,” the officer asked as he positioned his head a little closer to Johann, to smell his breath.

  “No. I don't drink.”

  “Well,” he said, as he quickly sniffed the air in Johann's car while he kept a keen eye on his perpetrator, “I don't smell any funny stuff in your vehicle, so I have to ask you -”

  “No. I don't smoke weed, either, or take any drugs, for that matter.” Johann said, as he interrupted the officer, and made an almost sarcastic facial gesture.

  The officer took his Breathalyzer out of his shirt pocket and held it for Johann, who exhaled into the device. The lawman checked the results. Even though it showed no sign of alcohol, the young officer was not yet convinced and made Johann go through the whole roadside sobriety test. After Johann successfully completed the test, the officer instructed him to get back in the car, which he did, gladly.

  “Mister Gunter,” the officer said, “I have to know the reason why you lost control of this vehicle. I need to be able to make a good judgment call on whether to let you go on your way or take you home and have your vehicle impounded or, if necessary, place you under arrest,” the officer said, almost glaring at Johann - who let out a sigh.

  “I don't know,” Johann said, “I guess maybe I'm just a little more tired than I thought I was. I mean, if you didn't see another car, I suppose I was maybe starting to drift off to sleep or something.” He glanced at the officer's name tag and used a pleading expression on the young officer. “Look, Officer Gilmore, my hotel is right up the road. If you want, you can follow me all the way to make sure nothing happens. I just want to get to my room and get some sleep.”

  The officer's brown eyes were locked onto Johann's as he studied his body language.

  “Alright,” he agreed as he stood upright, “I'll follow you. But, if I get even the slightest notion you're running, I will arrest you and make sure they put you away for a long, long time. Am I clear?”

  “Yes,” Johann said “Don't worry. I just want to get back to my motel room.”

  The officer glared at him for a moment, then walked back to his patrol car and reported in to the station. After he finished, he put his hand out the window and signalled for Johann to proceed.

  Father Gunter checked to make sure no traffic was coming and pulled out from the shoulder, and onto the road with the police cruiser in tow. He was mindful of the speed limit and every few seconds he glanced in the mirror only to see the police officer was, indeed, following him.

  During the short drive to the motel, he replayed this whole incident in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed the Challenger simply came out of nowhere. Almost like magic, the headlights appeared in front of him.

  Officer Gilmore said he didn't see the other car. This seems to be further proof the car, like the driver, was a phantom…no…a demon. Johann wondered what would happen if, on the next encounter, he would allow the black vehicle to impact his. Would there be a horrific crash, or would it pass harmlessly through? Johann found the temptation to find out almost overwhelming.

  Within a matter of minutes after leaving the scene of the incident, Johann saw the now lit sign for the motel a short distance up the road. He felt a sense of relief this day was almost over. Johann turned on his turn signal as he approached the motel parking lot. No sense doing anything that might upset the officer in the car behind him.

  As he turned off the road into the parking lot of the motel, Johann put his hand out and waved to the police officer. The officer responded with a quick chirp of his siren and continued on his way.

  “Thank God that's over,” Johann said to himself, relieved to have not been arrested. He parked his car in front of his room. The former priest opened the door to his accommodations, walked in and turned on the light; he quickly realized the incident he just had might only have been the beginning of his problems tonight.

  He stood motionless, as though paralyzed, at the switch and leered at the mirror. Written in something red that highly resembled blood, were the words “DIE PRIEST.” At the same time, he became aware of the relatively strong smell of sulphur in the room. “Son of a bitch is still here,” he whispered to himself.

  He gathered his wits about him and quickly reached into his jacket. Nervously, his fingers fumbled slightly, but soon found and withdrew his flask of holy water.

  “Where are you, you black-eyed bastard,” Johann said, almost whispering so as not to draw attention from nearby rooms. He slowly began to walk through the room and check out everything. He looked under the bed first and found nothing. He searched the ceiling, but found nothing there, either. Johann then mustered up his courage and slowly walked to the closet.

  He could feel the sweat of nervousness as it beaded on his brow. He made his way ever so slowly to the closed closet door. Images flashed through his mind of a horrid demon jumping out at him as soon as the door was opened. His hands began to tremble slightly. He was, after all, merely mortal and what he was battling was supernatural. He knew the odds, in all actuality, were not in his favor.

  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as the door was now within reach. The sound was so loud that surely if the demon was in this closet, Johann thought, he could hear it. Deliberately, Johann reached for the door knob. He quickly blessed himself as he tore the door open as fast as he could and raised the now open flask of holy water, ready to splash.

  The door opened, and Johann saw something black. Instinctively, he splashed holy water on the dark colored object. He quickly stopped when he realized all he was doing was wasting precious holy water on his own jacket. Johann turned away from the closet and realized the only place left for the demon to hide was in the bathroom.

  He thought that this, surely, must be where the devil was hiding, Johann began to say a prayer to himself as he got nearer the door. He held his hand with the holy water high, and kept it ready. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his free hand, then reached for the doorknob. Once again, his hands were trembling, and his heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would fly out of his chest.

  As his fingers made contact with the smooth and shiny brass of the doorknob, there were three sudden, sharp, and loud bangs which came from somewhere behind him. The sound was so sudden; Johann thought for sure his heart was going to stop. In one motion, he grasped the doorknob and jerked the door violently open, ready for whatever was behind it.

  The door swung open. There were another three loud bangs behind him. Johann noticed the sulphur smel
l was gone.

  “Damn it,” Johann said, disgustedly. Three more loud bangs. He realized someone was knocking on his door. Suspicious of everything now, he slowly walked over to the door and, with the holy water held high, quickly opened it.

  A figure stood at the door. Bathed in the lights from the parking lot, and almost looking like a scene from a famous horror movie from the 1970's was Father Tuttle. The gentle priest took note of the state Johann was in and the position of his hand with the holy water. He smiled warmly at Johann. “You won't need that. I'm harmless,” he said.

  Johann slowly lowered his hand. “I'm sorry father. Is there something I can do for you,” he asked.

  “Yes,” the father said, “As a matter of fact, there is. May I come in. We need to talk.”

  Johann glanced nervously into his room. He didn't want anyone to know yet what was going on.

  “Oh, don't worry,” Father Tuttle said in hushed tones, “Your secret is safe with me. I know who you really are and why you are here.”

  Johann gazed at him, surprised. He felt his mouth drop open a little as he stepped aside to allow the priest to enter his room.

  -6-

  Father Tuttle sat in a chair next to the bed and looked around the room. His face showed no emotion as he stared at the message written in red on the mirror. Johann sat on the bed, facing the priest.

  “Well, you've already made some friends,” Father Tuttle said, as he gazed in the mirror and looked at Johann's reflection. Johann loosened the tie he had been wearing all day, and unbuttoned the suit jacket, so he could be a little more comfortable. Father Tuttle had a quick glimpse of the shoulder holster Johann was wearing, but made no mention of it.

  “Yes,” said Father Gunter, “My experience told me it wouldn't take long for my presence to be felt.” Johann was looking at Father Tuttle's reflection in the mirror as he spoke. He turned his head to the priest. “So, you said you know who I really am? What did you mean by that,” Johann asked.